#and their dynamic is just so adorable and hilarious

[redvexillum]

OMG! I feel so warm and fuzzy from your Flufftober!

First off, can we talk about how Husk and Angel are just dragged into Charlie’s chaotic party planning? It’s like a hilarious flashback to their childhood games on Earth! I mean, who wouldn’t want to hunt for arrows that pierce apples but don’t harm sinners? 😂 That little detail is just brilliant!

And then the quest for real ducklings? What a fantastic twist! The imagery of apple cider and apple pie decorating the scene creates such a cozy, chaotic vibe that contrasts perfectly with the whole “party in Hell” premise. I can practically see all the apple-themed decor – it’s so cute and absurd! 🍏

Baxter's perspective is a whole mood. Seriously, his confusion and annoyance about the party being so weirdly themed had me chuckling. I can totally relate to that feeling of being surrounded by a bunch of overly enthusiastic party-goers, especially when you’re not feeling it yourself. His reflections on his childhood and the emptiness of it all add a nice depth to his character. The “stupid big party” sentiment is just so relatable!

Now, the dynamics between Baxter, Husk, and Angel are just pure perfection! Angel’s mischievous antics and Husk’s dry humor create such an entertaining banter. The way they push Baxter out of his comfort zone is just delightful, especially when they start teasing him about Niffty! Their friendship feels genuine and layered, which I adore.

Oh, and let’s talk about Niffty! She’s such a ball of chaotic energy! The way she interacts with Baxter is just too cute. You can see how her enthusiasm draws him out of his shell. Their little bobbing for apples challenge is both hilarious and sweet, leading to that unexpected kiss! I was like, “YAS, Baxter, go for it!” 💕

Will eventually have a link.

Drowning on Land

Husk and Angel were not happy with Charlie having them help set up for her father’s surprise party but they hadn’t played most of these games since they were kids on Earth so they complied.

They helped find arrows that could pierce apples but not harm sinners.

Then the real wild goose chase of tracking down real ducklings (or as close as they could find) in hell.

Apple cider.

Apple pie.

There were apple decorations too. Tablecloths, banners, cups and plates.

But Husk thought Alastor’s reaction was worth it. and Angel liked Husk’s reaction.

Baxter was just confused. This was the king of hell, not the weird kid from school, why was the party so weirdly themed?

This seems like the kind of party his parents would have thrown for him as a child. He didn’t even want to think about himself from back then. Stupid little party. Stupid empty chairs. Stupid family.

Lucifer wasn’t even there yet but as Baxter stood at the bar, with Angel sampling the apple-themed menu Husk was mildly annoyed to have had to learn, he saw demons and even a few deadly sins dancing. They were all talking about Lucifer so fondly. He had so many friends and loved ones.

Stupid big party. Stupid crowded dance floor. Stupid hotel.

“Baxter, if you squeeze that cup any tighter it will break,” Husk warned, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah and then you will get your little lab coat all wet,” Angel Dust added unnecessarily. He was already drunk.

“I just can not comprehend why Charlie insisted on such a ridiculous party. It is childish.” Baxter said, hoping they were both faded enough to not notice him catching a glimpse of Niffty running the apple bobbing game. Just like that, his mind wandered away from the bar again and he watched how Niffty tossed another apple from her bag into the wooden tub to replace the one the last sinner took off with.

Husk and Angel were not faded enough to not see his shoulders relax and his face soften as he stared across the room. He was so transfixed on the stabbing machine he didn’t even feel when Angel took the paper cup out of his hand and set it back on the bar. He did feel it when Angel tipped the barstool forward and Baxter’s face planted on the floor.

“What the fuck was that for Angel Dust?” Baxter spat as he stood back up and dusted himself off.

“I just thought you needed help. Looked like you were about to get redeemed and ascend right before my eyes!”

Husk shot him a dirty look. “Not cool Anthony.”

“Sorry Baxter,” Angel grew a stupid smirk on his face, “That you are too scared to go and flirt with Niffty.”

“That’s absurd!” Baxter lied, like a liar.

Husk suddenly in a bit more of a playful spirit chimed in, “Besides it looks like Niffty has enough bad men to keep her company.”

Baxter looked over and saw Niffty attempting to touch the blue flames of one of the sins. The guy was reacting to her the way one would react to a butterfly chasing them. His laugh hit Baxter’s ears and his feet started moving until he could hear the beast speak.

“Aw, you really are living in the spirit of lust aren’t you!” He cooed at her like she was a horny idiot while pulling her off his shoulder with ease.

“I like bad boys! You are a baddest boy!” Niffty said back to him because it was her job as a host to be nice, Baxter decided to believe despite Niffty’s long history of mild to not-so-mildly harassing bad boys.

“Yeah well I might be a bad boy, but that’s what my man likes!” Baxter watched as the blue bastard looked down at the clown next to him, “Don’t you Fizz?” the man kissed his lover and Baxter calmed down as Niffty smiled and started asking the fuzz guy if he was a bad boy too. The men laughed and eventually walked off and the next sinner walked up to bob for apples.

Baxter suddenly felt like he was the stupid one as he powerwalked back towards the bar.

Angel kicked his feet up on the stool Baxter was attempting to climb onto. “Angel Dust you do not require two stools.”

“Go actually try and get her attention this time toots, because that was pathetic,” Angel said with a lot less sincerity than he meant.

Husk just laughed, “Anthony, leave the kid alone. He’s probably never even kissed a woman. ‘Mad Scientists’ never do.”

“Oh whiskers don't be that harsh on him bab-”

Baxter yanked the stool out from under Angel’s feet and hopped up onto it. “I will have you know I have done plenty of kissing in my time. I have been here over a hundred years!”

“Damn, alright kid,” Husk said pouring him a new drink.

“I am probably older than the both of you! Just because I am short does not make me a child.” Baxter argued.

“Hey look Niffty is flirting again!” Baxter looked quickly back towards the apple bobbing game and saw Niffty sitting alone tossing apples into the small pool. The line was gone.

Angel’s laugh filled Baxter with rage. “Alright! Fine! I don’t know how to get Niffty’s attention in any way that would not result in Charlie kicking me out of the hotel.” Baxter put his head down on the bar, pouting like the child Husk was already accusing him of being.

“Dumbass, she literally is already obsessed with you,” Vaggie said while walking past with a clipboard.

Baxter hardly had time to think before Charlie rounded the corner and yelled, “He’s almost here!” Using a rare display of her magic she turned off all the lights as everyone crowded the door.

From the time Lucifer walked in the door and everyone yelled “Surprise” to when the last of the guests started leaving, Vaggie’s words replayed in Baxter’s head.

Baxter looked at the now empty room as the mad woman worked cleaning. He grabbed a bag and started tossing paper cups and plates as fast as he could and in the direction of her as some form of cover in case she asked him why he was there.

“You clean fast!” Niffty returned the observing he had been doing to her all day.

“You clean better.” He managed to say despite the foot that was clearly (metaphorically) lodged in his mouth.

“Yes, but fast is fun!” Niffty said now making circles around him.

He decided to trust Vaggie’s words and simply match her energy. Soon the two of them were running around the entire hotel for any mess they could find. Baxter wanted to follow some form of logical system for it but her infectious fanatical laughter drove him mad with glee. He would put the cart before the horse to hear that sound forever.

They finished cleaning and walked together, talking about the party. Turning off the lights as they cleared the rooms.

“You never came over to the drowning apple game,” Niffty said as they reached the one game they didn’t put away.

“It wouldn’t have been fair to the others dear Niffty. I am a pro at this game.” He said, lying again. He is a damn liar.

“Prove it!” Niffty said, clearly smelling his fear. “Prove it and you win a prize!”

“What’s the prize?” Baxter didn’t remember anyone getting prizes besides the apple.

“A secret!”

“Wait, I can’t know the prize first?” Baxter looked nervous. He did like Niffty a lot but he did know she liked murder a little too much to really want to turn his back on her.

“Nope, now bob for the apple!”

Baxter walked over to the pool that had its entire surface covered in apples. The water was hardly visible. An idiot could pull this off. Even in the dim room.

The first try he missed and came back up to make sure an apple was right where he was going for then he tried again.

The second time the apple touched his mouth but rolled away before he could bite down.

The fifth time he thought to turn on his little anglerfish light.

The twelfth time he almost gave up but as he looked at Niffty she looked at him with those big old eyes and he kept trying.

The fifteenth time he started keeping his eyes open.

The twenty-second time he started not coming back up all the way between tries.

Switching between air and water was exhausting his lungs. He was getting lightheaded from the inconsistency in the oxygen source.

Twenty-nine times. Twenty-nine times and he finally felt his teeth sink into the crisp fruit. He picked up his head and turned to Niffty.

Her face lit up! She was clapping for him! It was beautiful until her face dropped as everything started spinning.

He was certain he was only down for a second but it was clearly enough time for Niffty to have pulled his head onto her lap. “Silly boy.” Niffty said while playing with his wet hair, “You forgot to breathe.”

“No, I remembered to breathe. Just once I saw you I was breathless Niffty.” He said with an uncharacteristic amount of Charisma.

She continued to play with his hair, “You want your prize now?”

“Sure.” He said, not really wanting to move but bracing himself for it anyway.

Niffty moved her hand down from his hair, tilted up his chin, and planted a kiss softer than the tiny maniac should be capable of on his unprepared lips. He froze at first before returning the kiss. It broke way too soon.

“You liked your prize Bax?”

“Yes,” Baxter paused for a moment, “Am I going to be required to bob for apples for another one?”

Niffty’s smile could only be interpreted one way in his oxygen-deprived mind as sat up quickly and started reaching back for the tub of apples.

“Baxter no! Bad boy!” Niffty laughed as she watched the probably concussed sinner start bobbing for apples. He tried with a lot more need than the first time. Desperate for another taste. She watched as Baxter’s hand went missing from the end of his sleeve and suddenly reappeared moments later dripping wet as he spun around with another apple in his mouth.

Niffty really liked this bad boy.

[totallynotaterrorist]

I love Mickey Milkovich so much, his screentime is basically just him having hots for Ian, being confused about what the fuck is going on (and being pissed about it), and literally trying to kill someone, and I find that very reasonable

[thebrainrotsreal]

Listen there's a half chance the hands and stuff do not work this way, but simply?? pretend they do ig ??? Had to get some Vlad out of my system, so behold my fav ghostie on the planet! Wine drinker, petty plotter, my love, haha!

[badventist-petite]

The Grayson & Bell Variety Show [1/∞] Randolph Bell and Grayson Betournay The Resident - 2.06: Nightmares

[souenkun]

Thinking about how aoki oji-chan is the only one who offered to get food with poppy after they won 🥺🤲

[nex-kyit]

Ehehe 100% self indulgent alt Varic x Mell art.

I really have to write down all my ship headcannons at some point, I keep thinking about them constantly <3

Art Rambles below

I actually finished 90% of this a week ago but I couldn't decide if I wanted to add Novabots or not. I'm glad I did, they added the extra details that this piece needed.

I tried a new shading technique, not only was much quicker than my usual method, it m think it doesn't look half bad! I used two gradient maps, one set to multiply and the other to color dodge. I think I'll try to practice this technique during the Art fight, see if I can get used to it.

[badboysupr]

just wanna make something very clear here and on percy's blog; i adore crossovers

and i don't just mean the "let me make an entire involved AU for this" crossovers; i also mean the 0 effort, "let's just throw our two muses together and merge their universes and see what happens" crossovers

like don't get me wrong—i love all my pjo mutuals and i also do enjoy the effort put into creating AUs but listen

you can't tell me it isn't fun to take two muses who exist in the "real" world who have dealt with their own weird bs and watch them compare notes on the weirdness okay? it's immaculate

so if you write a muse who isn't pjo or doesn't have a pjo verse, i guarantee we will make it work, frienderino u-u and i guarantee i'm stoked for it

[jojotier]

thinking about Kanaya’s reaction after pouring her heart out over this dress for this girl she has a crush on and it just gets used for Vriska to make a flushed move on Tavros and how after she’s cried it all out and mothergrubsprite pets her hair and chitters that it’s okay, she’s always to be a loved child regardless, Kanaya trying so desperately to forget the flushed feelings

but they fester as Vriska continues doing more and more shit in the session and thinking about how Kanaya admires Vriska but realizes she hates her so fucking much but she can’t do anything more than grit her teeth against it and watch her habitually make a fool of herself even though she knows Vriska has the potential to do heroic things, and maybe even improve as a person, if only the asshole would stay still and INTROSPECT for once in her life, but it’s not her place to set every fool to rights

and how after everything goes down on the meteor and vriska hijacks the trip and by now Vriska’s feeling some type of way about Kanaya too, because no longer is Kanaya just some fussyfangs, she’s a fighter, a beast, a downright gorgeous monster with a hole still in her stomach and she can’t get the image of blood smeared on Kan’s lips out her head and it’s infuriating because maybe if Kanaya stopped the goody-two-shoes passive aggressive horseshittery for five goddamn seconds they could actually put that new rainbowdrinker power to the Test, and that’s what Vriska’s all about, pushing every single boundary there is to set, right?

[mejomonster]

WILD that Luo wenzhou does the whole front of treating Fei Du like a kid, like its caretaking and not the same damn love motivated care he does to Tao Ran except verging on even Moreso with Fei Du

When fei du literally, episodes before, saved him from certain death with a car. Saved him through an entire fucking car chase where he was bleeding out.

Fucking incredible.

No wonder it drives Fei Du up the fucking Wall. Luo Wenzhou has all this drive to dote on and care for Fei Du and keeps framing it as caretaking and that slightly tilted lense of "listen to me as a senior to you" whenever Fei Du lashes out, and it's like Fei Du is literally president of a presumably million or incredulously more rich ass company making actual business deals shaping the world and the crime scene in their city. A car chase isn't even the only dangerous he's thing he's done that week, politically he's making enemies daily at work. He is very much a competent adult with immense fucking heaps of responsibility he Very Successfully handles.

And then Luo scolds him for drinking coffee after wine cause it might hurt his tummy. ToT

Just can u even imagine being treated that much like a child when u saved the dude who's being Overprotective, from certain death the other day? No wonder Fei Du goes feral on his ass so often.

Luo Wenzhous doing it out of love rapidly shifting from platonic to *oh fuck don't confront it yet* while he keeps framing it as caretaking adjacent so Fei Du will tolerate it in the first place and it'll seem familiar and safe for fei du, but at the same fucking time it's goddamn whiplash cause Fei Du is having sexual thoughts for equal aged Tao Ran and trying to rail the guy and take him on dates (and functionally honestly in actions doing Exactly the same things to for Tao Ran that Luo Wenzhou does for Fei Du, but fei du can't recognize Luo wenzhous treating him that way - but Tao Ran sure as fuck can and he's Exhausted over them lmao). So fei du is like WHY am I being babied???! I'm the one babying the man I HAVE A CRUSH ON (with absolutely Zero self recognition that he learned to treat someone he likes this way literally by emulating Luo Wenzhou so you'd fucking think he'd notice Luo Wenzhou doing it to him but nah).

Anyway just. Lmao at President of a huge company fei du, saving the lives of cops in fucking huge high risk car chases, kicking the hornets nest of murdery shady rich people daily... being told "oh don't drink that coffee" "oh eat something it's late" "oh I'll call you a cab I don't trust you to get yourself home" "oh I can't smoke around you you're a delicate baby you might get hurt" Jesus christ alive no wonder fei du jumps for Luo Wenzhous throat nonstop.

Can you imagine? You run a company of hundreds or thousands, you save people, and your old "frenemy" won't stop treating you like you're the most delicate frail damsel that needs constant doting and saving. But he'll still yell at you. At least you don't yell at Tao Ran, when YOU treat him like a delicate damsel you're constantly offering support. But luo wenzhou? Constantly irritatingly bitching at you nonstop as he treats you like a damsel

ToT

[ghostlyheart]

Happy Valentines Day!! 💝 I hope you spend the day being haunted by someone you love 👻 (or if you're like me, just eating a lot of heart-shaped candy)

Poll:

[redvexillum]

Oh. My. Gosh! I am absolutely swooning over this story! 😍✨

The dynamic between Niffty and Baxter is just perfect, ONCE AGAIN! From the very first moment with the apple tossing, I was hooked. The playful banter and chemistry between them are just riveting, and I can't help but root for these two adorable dorks!

Niffty is such a little firecracker! I adore how she takes control with confidence, from the teasing kisses to the way she literally pulls Baxter into her antics. And Baxter? Oh boy, the poor guy is just trying to keep it together, but Niffty's presence completely unravels him in the most delightful way. The imagery of him leaning back against the pool and her delicate fingers trailing over his lab coat is just swoon-worthy! 💖

I can't get enough of their kisses—how each one is described with such passion and playful intensity! The way they keep pushing each other’s boundaries just screams chemistry! And the moment Niffty tumbles into the pool with Baxter? OMG, I was laughing and gasping all at once! You can feel the spontaneity and fun radiating off the page!

The scene where Niffty decides to strip to make Baxter feel more comfortable is hilarious and hot! 😏🔥 And Baxter’s nervousness just makes it even cuter. You’ve perfectly captured the awkwardness and excitement of new experiences, and I love how Niffty takes the lead, guiding him and encouraging him to explore. Their playful teasing is absolutely delightful, and I’m living for every little moment of it!

The chaos that ensues when Alastor swoops in is just perfect! I love how you managed to blend the tension of their moment with the hilarity of the interruption. Niffty's fierce protectiveness over Baxter is so sweet and adds an another layer of depth to her character. The way she kicks at Alastor is just so funny, I bursted out laughing—I'm here for all the fierce girl energy! And Baxter’s comedic yet endearing reaction to being in a mess of applesauce? I can’t even! 😂

Overall, this story is an absolute delight! You’ve captured the playful, chaotic energy of these characters perfectly while intertwining humor and romance. 💖💖💖

Check out the rest of my Flufftober library!

Part one: Drowning on Land

It continues mid-scene, you can do what you want but you might get confused if you haven't read it.

Breathing Underwater

This is my second ever attempt at smut, be kind please!

No trigger warnings I think?

18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+

And this bad boy really liked her back.

Niffty came over and took the apple from his mouth and tossed it back in the water.

"One apple per player Baxter." She kisses him again, softer and shorter than the last. “Bad boy breaking the rules.

“I did win again though?” He counters, fighting for another taste that was already coming his way.

Their lips meet again and she pushes him up against the wooden pool filled with apples. The edge of the pool hit his lower back and he leaned into it. Her hands found his chest and worked their way to his shoulders. By the time her delicate fingers were tracing the outline of his lab coat, he knew his knees were going to give out.

He broke the kiss and in an act of self-preservation, he scooted himself up so he was resting on the edge of the pool. With only an inch or two difference the two had no problem resuming.

Seeing him from a new perspective made Niffty determined to see what he was always hiding under that lab coat. Her lips moved to his jaw and her hands found the buttons of his coat. She popped the first few open slowly before giving a hard yank to the opposing sides. She did as she set out to. Unfortunately, there were consequences.

Baxter was unprepared for the sudden act, leading to him falling back into the pool.

Niffty didn’t even have time to react, her hands were still gripped tight to his coat and she tumbled in after him. She landed on top of him, straddling him accidentally. She scooted back and pulled him back to the surface.

“Niffty! Are you alright?” He said, tossing his coat over the wooden wall.

Niffty was mostly alright. Well, if not for the white t-shirt Baxter was wearing she would be. The horizontal lines framing the bottom of his chest were perfectly illuminated under the soft light from his head. The cold water wasn’t helping him at all, his nips on clear display. Her hands pressed into his firm stomach. Not gym bro muscles but carrying around all those lab experiments did him some good. Niffty wanted the shirt gone too.

“Niffty?” Baxter was nervous, Niffty could tell. She crawled back onto his lap and started trailing kisses from just beneath his ear down his chin. She felt his chest shake, taking uneven breaths again.

She shot back up to his ear and gave a playful tug with her teeth, “I already reminded you to breathe once. Such a bad boy not listening.” Her hand reached for the bottom of his shirt and she pulled the wet mess off and tossed it on his coat.

Baxter laughed, his hand ruffling his own hair, “Niffty, I am starting to feel a bit exposed here. I mean, uh, we are in a public place and I am not dressed for that kind of setting.”

She looked around, “No one else is here right now.”

“That doesn’t mean we set the dress code Niffty,” Baxter argued. “What if someone comes out and sees me?”

Niffty thought for a moment about the easiest way to ease his worries so she could get another taste of her yummy bad boy. She didn’t think long before deciding that clearly stripping would make him less nervous.

Before his eyes could even process Niffty’s dress had landed outside the pool. God themselves could have been watching at the moment Niffty sat back on his lap. Her breasts were right at his mouth level. He needed a taste and he wasn’t going to risk losing this chance. Her skin tasted smooth and like 1% apple juice. That wasn’t the best part.

Her soft little moan faded to her usual sinister giggle. He could feel his own body craving touch, he wasn’t ready for that.

He had no more secrets to tell Niffty. She had already discovered a lot of things about him that no one else in hell knew. And her lack of filter had her asking all the questions under the sun. She knew everything.

His tongue tried out new ways to try and make her moan again while his hands moved down her sides. He hit the floor of the pool without catching any form of resistance. She wasn’t wearing her tights. Or underwear. Fuck.

Niffty started giggling again, Baxter his head back to look at her. She kissed him softly before pulling back.

“Baxter, like this.” Her lips found his chest and Baxter’s nipple was quickly being flicked around by Niffty’s forceful, yet delicate tongue. Hunger. He felt the hunger in her. Then as her teeth teased his sensitive peaks he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold back any longer if he didn’t move fast.

He flipped them over so Niffty’s head rested against his wet lab coat and shirt. His breathing still hitched, and he made quick work of his sinister snack. He was a quick learner and Niffty gave him a longer moan than the last one.

Suddenly a thought came to his mind. A bad boy idea. He wanted to her back for her little comments about his breathing. Keeping one hand on her hips he brought the other to her other breast on started working it in small circles on that nipple while teasing the one in his mouth with his teeth. He watched her chest shake as she called out his name.

“I will say Niffty it looks like you need to focus on your breathing.” Baxter cooed, happy to win the little battle with himself.

Niffty smiled, “Well you are better with that mouth than I thought bad boy, what else can you do with it?”

Baxter knew there was a correct answer but his brain was short-circuiting a little from lack of experience already.

Niffty could tell. Niffty grabbed the hand Baxter was holding on her hip and guided it between her thighs, it was already aching for him and she knew most scientists learned by experimenting, not lectures. She guided his fingers over her swollen clit and guided him until she felt his kiss on her neck. She couldn’t explain anymore if she wanted to, he was a natural at Niffty autotomy.

Baxter loved hearing each little pant he caused her but he needed more. A bit more quickly than a trained hand would he stuck a single digit into her hot cunt. Niffty let out a moan loud enough Baxter looked towards the hallway for a moment. Once he was sure no one heard he carefully moved his finger in and out, adding a second finger when he felt confident enough. He was pretty sure he was getting the hang of this.

His touch had Niffty close. She hadn’t anticipated him moving forward without instruction but she was even more smitten. She hadn’t planned on him starting to kiss her between the breasts either, or for him to start trailing down. When his head made it underwater and planted between her thighs. His light kisses placed on her clit were sweet but his work with his fingers had her close.

Niffty grabbed onto the little fins on his head as her hips started to buck.

Baxter quickly took her little bud in his mouth and barely managed to make two laps with his tongue before he felt the squeezing pulses on his fingers. He looked up at her from under the water.

Her head was flung back, but he would have to push the apples out of the way to see anymore. He could have sworn he heard her moan from under the water but from under the water, he couldn’t hear much of anything.

But then her head was back up and she had let go of his fins. She looked off to the side, he thought towards the door but couldn’t be sure.

At least not until he felt Niffty’s heel at the small of his back making him sink flat. Her hand covered his little light.

The small blue light was quickly replaced with a green glow. The only resident who skipped the party was home. And Niffty was failing to hide him.

Baxter felt the tentacles wrap around his torso and yank him from the safety of his tank.

He watched as his lover climbed out of the pool and started kicking the ankles of the radio demon, shouting at him “Don’t eat him! That one is mine! Give him back!”

Alastor wasn’t listening, he was staring at the fish sinner, “What do you think you are doing, you pathe-” “ALASTOR!” The shrill scream of the princess was a welcome blessing to the shivering mess. Vaggie stood in front of her with her spear ready to defend.

“Charlie! Tell Alastor to give me back my bad boy! He’s mine!” His love pleaded to their royal landlord.

Alastor dropped Baxter back where he found him, sending water and apples everywhere as he fell.

“He’s fine,” Alastor said, his smile not reaching his eyes and his green aura still shining bright.

Niffty ran back to the pool to check on Baxter and was stopped by Alastor putting her cold wet dress back on her. Niffty looked up at the Radio Demon. She had seen him be cruel to many sinners before. Even Husker. He always was kind to her though. Everyone knew this. But the silent audience

He picked her up by the back of her dress and carried her out of the room.

Charlie ran to check on Baxter, “Baxter are you okay? Can I do anything to help?”

Baxter looked at the mess around him. Everything was beautiful, and now he was in a pool of watery applesauce.

“Can you make sure the flowers at my funeral are red and white?”

[bibluebutterfly]

I’m sorry but it’s absolutely hilarious and yet adorable how the series handles Broppy’s relationship. First we get them traveling together as rivals (which was a bit more one- sided on Branch’s part) before slowing learning how to work together and to change for the other. Also it’s heavily implied Branch has an underline crush on Poppy. Then we get True Colors, and everyone thinks “okay they’re in love now”.

Some people/audience members are on board, others not so much. BUT THEN it turns out that the “I love you” they say to each other was a PLATONIC love confession. Like “you’re my friend, and I value you.” Which is still sweet, but was unexpected. (Though it does explain why the writers decided to put another platonic love confession scene between Bridget and Poppy. Yeah, I get it now)

So they just go through the journey as bffs who have feelings for each other but won’t say anything. And again, they learn how to work and grow together as a team and make the necessary changes to benefit the other. And then FINALLY we get the romantic love confession.

But it doesn’t stop there, oh no. Now we get adventure #3, this time with them as a full on couple. And they are actually really cute. Actually the film doesn’t focus that much on their relationship but we see hints of how they are as a couple.

Poppy is still all over the place but she’s much less in her own head and far more open to listening and being a good girlfriend.

Branch on the other hand is still occasionally getting exasperated by her energy but this time also has an appreciation for it. Also he learns to open up to her a little more and she’s there to listen and accept him with open arms. (Bonus points to their flirty dynamic because wow. They were adorable here.)

And it’s ONLY THEN (7 years after the first film) when they get their first on screen kiss.

Anyway. In conclusion: Trolls is the slowest slow burn I have ever seen in a Dreamworks trilogy.

[fairandfatalasfair]

I think Charles grins fondly when Edwin's being a bitch because he genuinely thinks it's hilarious and adorable. But I also think he admires the shit out of Edwin's unwillingness to tone himself down or file off his sharp edges. Charles needs to be liked so much, and he spends so much time setting himself aside and tying himself in knots to be what other people need, and Edwin just doesn't. He is exactly and entirely his snippy bitchy self and everyone else can take it or leave it. I think there's something exhilarating in that for Charles - both a sense that by attaching himself to Edwin he can borrow some of that fearlessness about outside judgments, and a thrill of knowing that Edwin can ignore everyone else's opinion because Charles is always, entirely, inarguably enough for him.

And there are downsides to that dynamic. Charles works really hard to manage the vibe, and the fact that Edwin doesn't really do that back (isn't equipped to do it back, because he doesn't read people and intuit what they need from him the way Charles does) sometimes leaves him feeling like he's carrying that weight alone. (who else is gonna keep spirits up? you?)

But also there's a reason Charles is drawn to stubborn difficult people with sharp edges who don't apologise for who they are, and I don't think he'd give up Edwin's bitchiness for anything.

[julietsf1]

The Secret Admirer - Franco Colapinto x Driver!Reader

summary: Y/N thought the biggest challenge this season would be her dynamic with her cold teammate, but mysterious notes and gifts start to complicate things. Who’s behind it, and what happens when she finds out?

content: driver!reader; slight lestappen in-between the lines if you're down for it

AN - HELLO?? when did I reach 100 followers?? that's crazy fr thank you guys so much <3 getting myself a some lilies tomorrow to celebrate heehee :)

inspired after reading an amazing secret admirer SMAU by @hugleclerc!!

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The Williams garage was alive with the buzz of mechanics and engineers, adjusting last-minute setups on the cars before qualifying. I leaned against the wall, watching the team work their magic. The air was tense, but everyone seemed focused, ready for the battle that awaited on track.

Everyone except Franco Colapinto.

I glanced across the garage, where Franco stood laughing with one of the engineers. His gorgeous green eyes sparkled as he made some clever comment, drawing a laugh from the guy. Of course, everyone adored Franco—charming, effortlessly cool, always with a smile that could melt ice.

Just not when it came to me.

I took a deep breath, feeling the usual pang of frustration bubble up. It wasn’t that I needed to be best friends with my teammate, but we were supposed to be a team. Teammates were supposed to at least talk to each other, right? But no—Franco acted like I was a ghost. A ghost in a fireproof suit.

Whatever, I told myself. It wasn’t like I cared... much.

But maybe today would be different. Maybe today, I’d crack the Colapinto code.

“Hey, Franco,” I called out as I approached him, keeping my voice light, almost hopeful. “Ready for qualifying?”

He turned toward me, his eyes flickering me up and down for the briefest moment. “Hey,” he said, offering me the most forced smile I’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at how bad this was going already. “I, uh... need to check the data,” he quickly added, already turning away before I could even blink.

Right. Data. The lamest excuse. I watched as he made a beeline for the monitors, leaving me standing there like an idiot talking to thin air. Again.

I sighed, folding my arms. “Sure, no problem.” It felt ridiculous—like I was chasing after something that clearly didn’t matter to him. 

I didn’t want to admit how much it actually bugged me. Not having a good bond with Franco wasn’t just a professional issue—it felt personal. I got on with everyone else in the paddock. Oscar? Hilarious. Charles? Always up for a nice talk. Lando? Honestly too crazy for his own good. But Franco? He was a mystery wrapped in a cold, distant puzzle.

I let out another sigh, shaking my head. Turning to head back to my car again.

The truth was, it bothered me more than I liked to admit. I wanted to have that easy camaraderie I had with the others, but Franco wasn’t interested. Maybe I was reading too much into it. Maybe it was just the rivalry for the number 1 seat at Williams, and I was overthinking things.

But still, every time I saw him chat with the team, his eyes lighting up as he joked around, it stung. Why couldn’t he be like that with me?

The countdown to qualifying flashed on the screens around the garage, snapping me back to reality. Focus. I had a job to do. I wasn’t going to let Franco’s attitude get in the way of that. I could beat him on the track. That’s what mattered.

..

Back in my driver’s room, the hum of the paddock faded as I shut the door behind me. The familiar quiet enveloped me, offering a brief moment of peace. I tugged at the zipper of my race suit, peeling it halfway down to let out the heat. Qualifying had gone well enough, p10, but my mind was elsewhere, drifting away from lap times and tire choices.

I moved around the small space, packing my gloves and helmet, going through the motions of tidying up. There was something soothing about the routine—folding, zipping, stashing gear away in its proper place. It gave my hands something to do while my thoughts wandered.

As I reached for my bag, my fingers brushed against something unexpected—a small, folded piece of paper peeking out from the side pocket. I paused, pulling it free and unfolding it slowly. The handwriting was neat, familiar. My heart gave a small flutter, as it always did when I found one of these.

"You looked amazing again today. Seeing you shine is the highlight of my raceweekends."

A smile tugged at my lips, soft but undeniable. These notes had been showing up for weeks now, tucked into my things when I least expected it. Always sweet, always supportive, and just romantic enough to make me wonder who the mysterious admirer could be.

I leaned back against the bench, holding the note in my hand. Whoever was behind this... they were good. Thoughtful, even. They knew how to say just enough to lift my spirits without crossing that line into cringe territory.

But who could it be? I’d racked my brain plenty of times. Maybe one of the engineers? They were always around, and some of them had a quiet, observant vibe. Or could it be the chef who made those amazing post-race meals? He was always so friendly, always knew exactly how to make my day a little better.

I folded the note carefully and slid it into my pocket, shaking my head with a soft laugh. Whoever it was, they were doing a great job of keeping it a secret. It was frustrating, sure, but at the same time... there was something kind of magical about the mystery. And it felt good, knowing someone was watching, rooting for me in their own quiet way. 

With a small smile, I headed toward the door, stepping into the outside world again, basically hitting me in the face with its upbeat energy. Whatever challenges lay ahead, at least I had one thing to look forward to—someone out there cared. And that was more than enough to brighten my day.

..

At the hotel I went straight to the restaurant which was filled with the typical post-qualifying buzz—drivers catching up, teams unwinding with food and drinks, and engineers talking shop over their meals. I slipped into the booth beside Oscar, who was already halfway through his plate, while Charles raised his glass in greeting.

“Tough session?” Oscar asked, his mouth half full, which would sure as hell earn him a scolding from Nicole Piastri if she saw him like this.

I shrugged, picking up the menu. “Could’ve been worse. Franco had his usual charm on, though.” I tried to keep it light, but there was no hiding the disappointment creeping into my voice.

Charles raised an eyebrow, setting his glass down with a smirk. “And by charm, you mean...”

“He barely acknowledged me.” I sighed, flipping the menu open. “I tried to wish him luck, you know, like a teammate would? He gave me the most forced smile, muttered something about ‘checking the data,’ and bolted.”

Oscar leaned back in his seat, giving me a knowing look. “Classic Franco move. Avoidance with a dash of politeness.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” I muttered, more amused than frustrated at this point.

Charles chuckled. “Well, it’s not like he hates you. Maybe he’s just... I don’t know, bad at the whole teammate thing.”

“Maybe,” I said, not really convinced. “It’s just... disappointing. Everyone else on the grid is easy to get along with, but with Franco, it’s like I don’t exist. I get that we’re both competitive for that number one seat, but it doesn’t mean we have to be strangers.”

Oscar gave me a small, sympathetic smile, then his face lit up with a mischievous glint. “At least you’ve got someone making up for it with those cute little love notes.”

My cheeks flushed a bit as I fumbled with the menu. I wasn’t expecting that to come up so quickly. “I wouldn’t call them love notes.”

Charles leaned in, clearly intrigued. “Oh, do tell.”

I sighed, setting the menu down. “It’s nothing major. Just... someone’s been leaving notes for me. Encouraging ones. They’re always really sweet and thoughtful.”

Charles and Oscar exchanged a glance, then burst out laughing.

“Our girl’s got a secret admirer!” Oscar stated, grinning ear to ear.

Charles joined in. “And you didn’t think to tell me? Come on, Y/N, we’re supposed to be your investigative team here.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling despite their teasing. “It’s not like that. I mean, I don’t even know who it is. The notes just show up in my stuff—my locker, my bag, even my hotel room once.”

Charles was practically bouncing in his seat. “This is amazing. You’ve got a secret admirer in the paddock, and you’re keeping it from us? That’s just cruel.”

Oscar tilted his head, considering. “Maybe it’s one of the journalists? They’re always hanging around the paddock.”

I frowned, thinking it over. “A journalist? I don’t know... It seems kind of personal. Like, whoever’s leaving them knows what’s going on in my head.”

Charles grinned, clearly loving the mystery. “Maybe it’s that tire guy. You know, the one who’s always lurking around with that awkward smile.”

I laughed. “Sure, because nothing says romance like delivering tires.”

“Hey, you never know,” Charles teased. “The guy might have a thing for drivers who know how to handle a good set of Pirellis.”

Oscar snorted. “Well, whoever it is, they’re clearly invested in you. And the fact that they’re staying anonymous? Bold move.”

I shook my head, grinning despite myself. “It’s not like that. I mean, I don’t think it is. The notes are more... supportive than romantic.”

Charles smirked. “Supportive, romantic... it’s the same thing when you’re the one receiving them.”

I leaned back, letting out a breath. “Maybe. It’s just weird not knowing. Whoever it is must be around a lot to be able to slip the notes into my stuff without me noticing.”

Oscar shrugged. “Could be anyone. Engineer, journalist, tire guy... heck, it could be someone from another team for all we know.”

Charles gave me a nudge. “Come on, let’s not overthink this. Whoever it is, they’re obviously paying attention to you in ways we’re not. Just... enjoy it. You deserve it.”

..

Back in my hotel room, I tossed my bag onto the bed and collapsed into the armchair. Even after the dinner with Oscar and Charles, the post-quali hectivity still lingered in my head, and I was ready to unwind. As I sat up, something caught my eye on the desk—there, sitting perfectly in the middle, was a bouquet of lilies, their soft pink petals delicate and crisp against the dark wood. Nestled among the flowers was a small teddy bear, its plush almost glowing in the dim room light.

I blinked, taking a step closer. Another note.

With a grin creeping onto my face, I picked up the folded paper, carefully sliding it out from between the stems. My heart fluttered a little as I unfolded it, the familiar neat handwriting greeting me once again.

"Flowers for the prettiest girl in the pitlane, you are doing amazing this weekend."

The warmth that spread through me was undeniable. Whoever this was, they had a knack for making me feel special without going overboard. I set the note down on the desk, reaching for the teddy bear. It was soft, comforting in a way that made me smile.

Without thinking, I scooped up the flowers and the teddy and practically ran out of the room, determined to show Oscar and Charles the latest installment of this ongoing mystery. I knew they’d have a field day with it.

When I made it down to the lobby, I spotted them easily—Oscar and Charles were draped over the couches, their laughter carrying across the room.

“Oh no,” Oscar said as soon as he saw me, eyes locking onto the bouquet. “Not more flowers.”

Charles leaned forward, grinning. “What is it this time? Roses? A life-sized teddy bear?”

I sat down next to them, holding up the lilies and teddy with a mock dramatic flourish. “Lilies and a teddy bear,” I announced. “And another note. This person is definitely stepping up their game.”

Before I could say more, Max appeared out of nowhere, sliding into the chair next to Charles. He raised an eyebrow at the sight. “Wait, wait, wait—what did I miss?”

Oscar leaned over, grinning like crazy. “Oh, just Y/N’s latest delivery from her secret admirer.”

Max’s eyes widened in mock shock. “Secret admirer? How come I’m only finding out about this now? Charles, you should’ve told me!”

Charles waved him off. “You’ve been too busy. Someone’s been leaving notes and gifts for Y/N. This is the latest one—lilies and a teddy bear. The whole deal.”

Without missing a beat, Max straightened up dramatically and grabbed Charles’s hand, mimicking a lovestruck expression, placing a hand on his chest. “Oh, darling Charles, I’ve waited so long to tell you how much I adore you. Letme sweep you off your feet with lilies and teddy bears,” he said in a ridiculous voice, earning a round of laughter from the guys.

Charles, unable to keep a straight face, clutched at his chest. “Oh, Max, I had no idea! How could I have been so blind?” He pretended to swoon, leaning into Max as Oscar snorted with laughter.

The whole thing was so ridiculous that I couldn’t help but burst out laughing, holding onto the teddy bear as Charles dramatically fell into Max’s arms. Oscar nearly spilled his drink, laughing so hard he was shaking.

“You guys are so annoying,” I said, shaking my head.

Oscar wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “And yet, you still hang out with us.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, sitting down beside Oscar. “You can all make fun of me later. But seriously, I have no idea who’s behind this.”

Max leaned over, winking at me. “Whoever it is, I’d say they’re pretty serious about this. You should probably start writing your thank-you speech for when they finally reveal themselves.”

Oscar tilted his head thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s someone who sees you all the time but doesn’t want to be too obvious about it. A paddock regular.”

Charles nodded. “Like that tire guy. Maybe he’s finally making his move.”

Lando, who joined the group mid max’s performance and had been quietly observing so far, crossed his arms, his grin widening. “Oh, I have a pretty good idea who it is.”

I raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh, really?”

Lando shrugged casually, a sly smile playing on his lips. “I mean, if you pay attention, it’s not that hard to figure out. It’s always someone who notices the little things, like when you have a really good session or when you’re extra happy about something.”

Oscar tilted his head. “Wait... are you saying you know who it is?”

Lando’s smirk widened just a fraction. “I guess I’m fairly certain, yeah. But where’s the fun in telling you now? I’ll let you all figure it out.”

Max leaned back, giving Lando a look. “Come on, mate. You can’t just drop that and leave us hanging.”

Lando held up his hands, still grinning. “I’m just saying—sometimes the answer’s right in front of you. You’ve just gotta look a little closer.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, the wheels in my head turning, but before I could press him any further, George strolled up, adjusting his jacket with his usual air of elegance. He took one look at the flowers and teddy bear, and his face lit up with intrigue.

“Good evening, Gentlemen, Gentlewoman,” George said, eyes carefully inspecting the gifts on the table, “what’s this whole ordeal about?”

Oscar leaned forward, clearly enjoying himself. “Y/N’s got a secret admirer. Notes, flowers, gifts... the whole thing.”

George straightened up, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “A secret admirer, you say? Well, this sounds like a job for me.”

Max snickered. “You’re going to solve this mystery, Sherlock?”

George gave him a serious nod. “Absolutely. It’s a matter of pride now. Y/N, you leave this in my capable hands.”

I laughed. “What’s your plan, George?”

He adjusted his collar with a flourish. “I’ll start by investigating everyone in the paddock. No stone shall be left unturned, no individual overlooked.”

Charles chuckled. “I’d pay good money to see you interrogating the tire guy.”

George gave him a lofty wave. “The tire guy? Please, I’ll be far more thorough than that. I’ll speak to marshalls, cleaning staff, team principals—everyone. By the end of this, I’ll have your answer.”

Oscar grinned. “I’m sure they’ll all appreciate your thoroughness.”

“Fear not,” George continued, completely serious, “I will get to the bottom of this. You can count on me.”

We all burst out laughing as George made his dramatic exit, heading off toward the elevators with an air of determination.

Max shook his head, still chuckling. “He’s going to be a nightmare in the paddock tomorrow.”

Oscar leaned back, crossing his arms. “No kidding. He’ll have everyone hiding from him by lunchtime.”

Lando, still lounging comfortably, gave me a quick glance. “Well, while Sherlock’s off gathering clues, we can all sit back and enjoy the show.”

I smiled, hugging the teddy bear close. “Yeah, this whole thing is getting out of hand.”

But even as I said it, I glanced down at the note again, my fingers brushing over the neat handwriting. There was something about this whole thing—something I felt I was overlooking.

..

Race day had finally arrived, and the paddock was alive with excitement. The drivers’ parade was one of those moments where the race hadn’t quite hit yet, and the energy was more about the fans than the looming competition. I stood with the other drivers, the sun bright overhead, as we waited to climb into the two open-top trucks that would take us around the circuit.

The atmosphere was lively, the cheers of the crowd echoing through the streets. For a brief moment, it was just about the spectacle—no stress, no pressure. Just waves and smiles.

“Y/N!” George’s voice cut through the noise, and I turned to see him weaving through the group with a grin. “I’ve got updates.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Updates on what?”

George leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “The investigation. I’ve been doing some digging.”

I stifled a laugh, shaking my head. “George, I thought we agreed to keep this low-key.”

He nodded, but there was a glint in his eyes. “Oh, of course. Very discreet. But just so you know, I’ve already ruled out a few people. I had a chat with the tire guys—they’re off the list.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Good to know.”

Oscar, standing a few feet away, overheard and sauntered over, clearly amused. “George is still on about that, huh?”

George straightened up, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I’m telling you, we’re making progress. Just need to connect a few more dots.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure, Sherlock. But keep it subtle, okay?”

Oscar chuckled, clapping George on the shoulder as we climbed into one of the trucks for the parade. “Just don’t go questioning the marshals next, alright?”

We settled into the large truck, with half the drivers in ours and the rest in another up ahead. George stood beside me, his detective mindset clearly still working overtime. “I’ll crack this eventually,” he said, his tone only half-joking.

As the truck rolled forward, George leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve narrowed it down to three main suspects.”

I raised an eyebrow, already bracing for the ridiculousness. “Okay, hit me. Who’s on your list?”

George, completely serious, ticked off the names on his fingers. “First, Gunther Steiner.”

Oscar, standing across from us, choked on his water. “Gunther? Seriously?”

George nodded. “Could be him, right? The man’s full of surprises.”

I bit back a laugh, playing along. “Sure, let’s put Gunther in the mix. Who else?”

George held up a second finger. “Then, there’s one of the guys from Dutch TV. He’s always hanging around too, and I saw him chatting with the engineers yesterday. Could be a cover.”

Oscar shook his head, thoroughly amused. “A Dutch broadcaster? Aren’t most of those guys well over 50?”

“And lastly,” George said, leaning in even closer, “Lewis.”

I burst out laughing. “Lewis? Really?”

George shrugged. “He’s known to be romantic. He certainly stole my heart in the last few years of us working together.”

“He’s like a dad to me, George!” I said, rolling my eyes.

George grinned, completely unfazed by the disbelief. “You never know. He surely is a handsome guy.”

As the parade began to roll forward, I glanced over at Lewis, who was standing on the other side of the truck, waving atfans as we passed by. He caught my eye and made his way over, always up for a chat.

“Ready for race day, Y/N?” Lewis asked, his smile easy and familiar.

I smiled, waving to the crowd. “Absolutely! I’ve got a good feeling about the car this weekend.”

Lewis nodded, his gaze shifting briefly to Franco, who was further up in the other truck, chatting with Carlos and Checo. “How’s it going with your teammate?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of understanding.

I sighed. “It’s just weird, you know? I’ve tried to build some kind of rapport with him, but he barely acknowledges me. Feels like I’m talking to a wall sometimes.”

Lewis nodded knowingly. “I’ve been there. Back when Nico and I were teammates, it was the same. Sometimes, no matter what you do, the team dynamic just doesn’t click.”

I glanced over at Franco, who was sitting up ahead in the other truck, chatting easily with some of the engineers. “Yeah, that’s exactly how it feels. I don’t want to be at odds with him, but it’s hard when he’s so distant.”

Lewis offered a sympathetic smile. “Best advice I can give? Focus on your own performance. If it’s meant to change, it will, could still be a lot of love there in the future. Who knows.”

I nodded, grateful for his words. “Thanks, Lewis. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As the trucks rolled through the circuit, the noise of the crowd surrounded us, creating a whirlwind of energy. I waved and smiled, but my mind kept drifting back to George’s “investigation.”

Just then, George leaned over again, his voice still hushed. “I have a few more leads, you know. I think the key is in the smaller details.”

Before I could respond, Lando, standing a few meters behind us, called out with a cheeky grin. “Maybe Sherlock should focus on the people who see the little things, those who spend the most time near her during raceweekends.”

I shot him a look, but Lando just winked, clearly enjoying the teasing. “Just a thought,” he added.

Oscar laughed, nudging George. “Sounds like Lando’s onto something. Maybe you should listen to him.”

George, undeterred, gave a firm nod. “I am conducting an official investigation here, I will not be phased by the random gibberish coming out of Mr. Norris’s mouth.”

We all laughed, the banter flowing easily as the parade continued. The crowd’s cheers grew louder, and for a moment, I let myself get swept up in the excitement, pushing thoughts of the admirer and Franco to the back of my mind.

..

The parade had been fun, but as the race drew closer, the atmosphere shifted. There was a something in the air, an underlying tension that grew with every passing minute. The team was busy making final preparations, and the garage was a blur of activity—mechanics checking the cars, engineers pouring over data, and the hum of engines revving in the background.

I made my way to the starting position, taking a moment to clear my head. The race was the focus now, and I had to put everything else—George’s ridiculous suspects, Lando’s weird hints, and even the mystery admirer—aside. It was time to focus.

Franco, who qualified p9 and therefore was parked next to me, stood by the car, laughing with a couple of the engineers, his usual charming self. His eyes sparkled, and his energy seemed high. Can’t believe he can look this good after such an intense weekend. As always, he was completely at ease with the team—just not with me. I watched him for a moment, the distance between us feeling wider than ever. It wasn’t that I was angry with him, just... a bit sad. 

I took a deep breath and walked over, determined to at least wish him good luck before the race. Maybe today would be different.

“Hey, Franco,” I said, my voice light but hopeful. “Good luck out there.”

He glanced over at me, looking clearly caught of guard. “Yes, thanks,” he replied, his tone polite but clipped. “You too.”

Before I could say anything else, he turned back to the engineers, diving right into a discussion about strategy. It was like a door closing in my face—again.

I stood there for a moment, watching him interact so easily with everyone else. He had the charm, the confidence, those dreamy eyes, the effortless ability to make people like him. So why couldn’t we connect? I wasn’t asking for much, just a little more than this distant, cold professionalism. But every time I tried, he shut me down.

I sighed, turning away. There was no point in pushing it anymore. Franco wasn’t interested, and I couldn’t waste energy on something that clearly wasn’t going to change.

As I stepped into my car, I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline starting to build. I had a decent starting position, and the car felt good during practice. If I could nail the start and keep things clean, there was a good chance I’d score some solid points today.

My race engineer gave me a rundown of the strategy, and I nodded along, focusing on the task at hand. The tension was there, but it was the good kind—the kind that made you want to get out there and fight.

I cast one last glance over at Franco. He was in his element, all smiles and confidence as he chatted with the crew. For a second, I almost envied how easily things seemed to come to him.

I shook off the thoughts of Franco, my mind snapping into race mode. Whatever was going on between us—or rather, wasn’t going on—could wait. I had points to score.

..

The race had been a whirlwind. I was still buzzing with adrenaline as I pulled into the pit lane. It wasn’t a podium, but finishing P7 was a solid result, especially considering how tight the midfield battle had been. The car had felt good, and I’d managed to keep my head down and fight through the chaos of the race. As I unclipped my harness and climbed out of the car, a wave of relief washed over me. Another race down, and points on the board for Williams.

The garage was already alive with celebration—engineers high-fiving each other, the mechanics cheering for what had been a strong race for the team. Franco had finished P6, just ahead of me, which was a good result for both of us. I caught a glimpse of him surrounded by team members, all smiles as usual, and I felt a twinge of something I couldn’t quite place. Not jealousy, but... something else.

As the energy in the garage began to die down, I noticed people slowly filtering out, heading off to unwind or prep for the evening celebration. I lingered, not in any rush, soaking in the post-race energy. Eventually, it was just a few of us left, the hum of the paddock fading into a quiet calm.

With a deep breath, I gathered my things, deciding it was time to head back to my driver’s room to decompress. My body ached from the intensity of the race, and the adrenaline was finally starting to wear off. A hot shower and a moment of peace were exactly what I needed before joining the team later at the cocktail bar.

When I walked into my room, I spotted something that made me stop in my tracks.

On the bench next to my helmet sat another note—this time accompanied by a little box from Dior. Curious, I opened the lid, only to find the most stunning, sleek, golden bracelet inside. My heart skipped a beat as I moved closer, picking up the delicate piece of jewelry. The bracelet was simple but elegant, with a small star charm that caught the light as I held it in my hand. This wasn’t just another gesture. This felt different—more intimate.

With shaky hands, I unfolded the note, the familiar handwriting almost calming in its neatness.

"You were a star out there. Wish I could see you smile like this every day."

I sat down, holding the bracelet in one hand and the note in the other, a mixture of emotions washing over me. The thoughtfulness behind the gesture, the subtle encouragement—it all felt so personal. Whoever this person was, they saw me in ways that most people didn’t. The bracelet wasn’t just a gift; it was a reminder that someone out there was paying attention to more than just my results.

I smiled softly to myself, but after a moment, I carefully placed the bracelet back into its little Dior box. It felt too precious, too delicate to wear just yet. 

I glanced around the room, half-expecting someone to step out from the shadows with a confession. But of course, I was alone. The puzzle pieces were there, but the final picture still felt elusive. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was getting closer to figuring it out.

With the note tucked safely in my pocket and the box in hand, I left the room, ready to head to the team celebration.

As I left the room and stepped into the paddock, I nearly bumped into Kym Illman, who was walking by with his camera slung over his shoulder.

“Y/N! Just the person I was hoping to catch,” Kym said, grinning as he stopped in front of me. “Mind if I grab a quick post-race shot? Gotta capture that afterglow.”

I blinked, still feeling a bit dazed from everything that had happened, but I forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, sure. Go for it.”

Kym raised his camera, the familiar sound of the shutter snapping away as I stood there, trying to focus on anything other than the Dior box in my hand. The camera clicks were rhythmic, but I could feel the weight of the small box growing heavier by the second. Just as he lowered the camera, Kym’s eyes flicked down to the box.

“You got a little gift,” he commented casually, gesturing toward it with a nod. His easygoing smile remained in place, like he didn’t realize he was about to drop a bomb. “From Franco, right?”

I froze, the words hitting me like a sudden gust of wind. My pulse quickened, and I stared at him, my mind struggling to process what he’d just said. “Franco...?”

Kym, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing inside me, shrugged casually. “Yeah, I saw him going into your room after the race, carrying that little box. I assumed it was something from him for you. It’s good to see things are smoothing outbetween you two.”

He smiled again, a little too cheerfully, completely oblivious to the turmoil his words had caused. I forced a shaky smile in return, the reality of his comment sinking in slowly, like ice water trickling down my spine.

Franco had dropped off the bracelet. Franco had been in my room. Franco had been leaving me the notes and the gifts—this entire time?

My thoughts spiraled, trying to match the Franco I knew—the one who could barely hold a conversation with me, who always kept his distance—with the person behind these thoughtful, personal gestures. How could the same person be so cold and yet so considerate? None of it made sense. But then again, he was always around, like Lando hinted at.

“I, uh... will see you next week,” I finally managed to say, my voice coming out shakier than I’d intended.

Kym, still completely unaware of the bombshell he’d just dropped, gave an easygoing smile. “Great race today. You’re looking strong out there. I’ll see you around.”

With that, he waved and walked off, leaving me standing there, rooted to the spot. The guy who had barely acknowledged me for months, who had given me the cold shoulder in every single interaction, was the same person who had been leaving me these incredibly thoughtful, sweet notes?

I looked down at the Dior box in my hand, the logo glinting in the fading light of the evening. The weight of the bracelet inside felt heavier now, the realization settling in like a lead weight in my chest. It was Franco. What the hell?

But if it was him, why had he been so distant? Why couldn’t he just say something instead of hiding behind anonymous notes and secret gifts?

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. There was no point in overthinking it now. I needed answers, and there was only one person who could give them to me.

Tonight, I was going to find Franco, and I was going to get to the bottom of this.

..

The cocktail bar slowly filled with the sounds of celebration. Laughter and the sound of clinking glasses travelled through the room as the Williams team reveled in the success of the race. The low lighting cast a warm glow over the bar, making it feel intimate, even amidst the lively chatter. I stepped inside, the gold bracelet glimmering softly on my wrist. The weight of it felt significant, not because of its size, but because of what it represented. Tonight, I needed answers, and I had a plan.

Franco stood near the bar, surrounded by a few engineers, his easy smile making him the center of attention, as always. He laughed at something one of the guys said, and for a moment, I watched him, still trying to reconcile the Franco I thought I knew with the one who had left me those thoughtful notes that made my stomach flutter. My fingers brushed the bracelet, and I felt a twinge of nervous energy rush through me.

I took a deep breath and made my way across the room toward him, my heart pounding as I rehearsed what I might say. The crowd seemed to blur as I neared, and suddenly it was just the two of us in this noisy, lively place.

“Franco,” I called out, keeping my voice light, though every nerve in my body was tingling.

He turned toward me, his green eyes immediately darting to my wrist. The moment they landed on the bracelet, a flicker of recognition passed through his expression—a quick joyful spark that was gone almost as soon as it appeared. But it was enough. That slight hesitation, the twinkle in his eye—it was all I needed to know.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a little too calm, a little too composed. “Congrats on the race today. P7 is a solid finish.”

I forced a smile, stepping closer. “Thanks. P6 isn’t bad either. You were brilliant out there.”

He nodded, but I noticed his gaze flicker back to the bracelet again, like he couldn’t help himself. That spark was back in his eyes, and this time, it lingered.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, his voice a little quieter now.

His response was automatic, his words almost an afterthought. His attention wasn’t on the conversation—it was on my wrist, the bracelet. He couldn’t hide it.

I smiled knowingly. “Do you like my new bracelet?”

Franco blinked, his composure slipping for a second. “It’s, uh... nice. Gold, right?” His voice wavered ever so slightly, like he was trying too hard to sound indifferent.

I tilted my head, taking a step closer. “Yes, so pretty isn’t it? Someone gave it to me after the race.”

He nervously tried his best to look away and avoid my gaze, suppressing what seemed to be a proud smile. “Oh, that’s... thoughtful.”

I raised an eyebrow, watching him squirm. “It was, wasn’t it?”

The space between us felt charged, the air thick with tension. I waited, giving him a chance to come clean, but he stayed silent, his eyes glued to the bracelet.

He opened his mouth to say something, but whatever words he’d planned to use were lost. I couldn’t wait any longer. Grabbing his arm, I gently pulled him away from the group, toward the quieter, dimly lit corner in the bar, just out of sight. Franco didn’t resist, though I could feel the stiffness in his movements.

Once we were tucked away from prying eyes, I let go of his arm and turned to face him, crossing my arms as I leaned against the wall. “Franco, it was you, wasn’t it? The notes, the flowers, the bracelet—it’s all been you.”

Franco shifted uncomfortably, his usual confidence completely gone. He avoided my gaze, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit I hadn’t noticed before. “What? No—I don’t—” He faltered, the words tumbling out awkwardly. “I mean, I—”

I stepped closer, cutting him off with a raised eyebrow. “Franco.”

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. He glanced around, as if hoping for some sort of escape, but when none came, he finally met my eyes. “I didn’t know how else to... say anything,” he murmured. “It’s stupid, I know. We’re teammates, and I should’ve just—”

“What did you want to say?” I asked, my voice soft but firm.

 “You’re all I can think about,” he blurted out, the words unfiltered. “Every single day.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the intensity of his confession. Franco’s face softened as he continued, his voice quiet but steady.

“I’ve been trying to act like I don’t care, like I’m just focused on the race and nothing else, but... it’s you. It’s always been you.”

My breath caught as his words sank in, but he didn’t stop there. He took a step closer, his voice lowering.

“You have no idea what you do to me, cariño,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “I love the way every time we’re eating something and you have the first bite and it is really good, actually good—like, not just passable, you crunch your nose up a little bit. It is so cute.”

He smiled slightly, the vulnerability in his voice clear as he kept going. “And after a good session, when you pull your helmet off, and your hair’s all over the place, but you don’t care because you’re too busy hopping from foot to foot, like you can’t hold in how excited you are. You think no one notices, but I do. It’s adorable, and it drives me crazy.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest as he took another step closer, his voice barely more than a whisper now.

He stepped closer, his green eyes locking onto mine, more earnest than I’d ever seen them. “Even when you’re just standing there, doing nothing, you have this way of making me completely forget about everything else. Just watching you makes me lose my mind.”

I couldn’t help but beam at that, the sweetness of his words breaking through the tension. Franco glanced down, shaking his head slightly as if embarrassed.

“I thought if I stayed away, maybe it would stop, but it didn’t. So... I left the notes. The flowers. The bracelet. Because I didn’t know how else to say it.”

“You’ve cared all along,” I whispered, more a statement than a question. My heart was racing like there was a V12 engine hidden inside of it.

Franco nodded, his green eyes locking onto mine with such intensity it made my breath hitch. “I have. But we’re supposed to be competing for that number one seat, and I didn’t want to make it more difficult... with how I feel about you.”

His confession hung in the air between us, raw and real. The weirdness, the tension—it had all been leading to this moment.

I stepped even closer, until our bodies were almost touching, my voice soft. “Franco, you didn’t have to hide it. You could’ve just told me.”

For a moment, neither of us moved, the space between us charged with everything we hadn’t said. But now, with nothing left unsaid, I closed the gap, standing on my toes as I pressed my lips to his.

Franco froze for a second, caught off guard, but then he responded, his hands finding my waist as he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. It was slow at first, tentative, like we were both afraid to break the moment. But as the seconds passed, the kiss grew more urgent, more real, like all the months of tension were finally being released.

His hands tightened on my waist as he kissed me back, the heat between us growing with each passing second. My heart raced as I melted into him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as the kiss deepened, hungry, like we were making up for lost time..

Franco’s hand slid up my side, as he moved to cradle my face. His thumb grazed my cheek, and I felt my breath hitch, a shiver running down my spine as the kiss intensified. His lips were warm, firm, moving against mine with an urgency that sent a thrill through my entire body. I kissed him back with just as much passion, feeling flutters in my stomach.

My back hit the wall, and the feel of him pressed against me made my pulse race even faster. There was nothing tentative about the way he kissed me now—his lips demanding, his touch sending sparks of heat through me. He broke the kiss for just a second, only to dive back in, like he couldn’t get enough.

But this time, instead of his lips finding mine again, they traveled down, brushing along my jaw and moving to my neck. The feel of his breath against my skin sent a shiver down my spine, my heart pounding in anticipation. His lips found the sensitive spot just below my ear, pressing soft, deliberate kisses that made me gasp quietly.

Franco’s hands found my waist again, softly fidgeting with the hem of my top and touching the bare skin below, as he trailed his soft lips against the curve of my neck. The combination of his touch and his breath was intoxicating, and I tilted my head back, giving him more access, my body responding instinctively to the way he explored my skin. His lips lingered there, slow and teasing, each kiss sending little jolts of electricity through me.

I could feel his breath hitch as he pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against my neck as he murmured, “You’re making it impossible to think straight.”

Before I could even respond, he found my lips again, the kiss deeper this time, more heated than before. His hands moved up, combing through my hair, pulling me closer as his lips moved with a hunger that made my knees weak. I kissed him back just as fiercely, losing myself in the feel of him. 

 It was overwhelming—in the best possible way. Every nerve in my body was on fire, responding to every little movement, every brush of his lips. Who knew Franco could feel so good?

When we finally pulled apart, breathless, I realized I hadn’t even noticed the noise of the bar fading around us, the rest of the world disappearing for that brief moment. Franco’s forehead rested against mine, our breaths mingling as we tried to catch them.

He didn’t say anything at first, his eyes still closed, like he was savoring the moment. And I understood that, because I was too. There wasn’t any need for words.

After a few beats, Franco finally opened his eyes, his gaze soft but intense. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he murmured, his voice rough around the edges.

“Was it worth the wait?” I teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.

His eyes darkened slightly, his lips curving into a grin. “More than you know.”

He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against my forehead, lingering there for a moment as I closed my eyes and let the warmth of it settle between us.

I smiled up at him, still catching my breath. “I am so happy you’re not the tire guy.”

Franco blinked, a puzzled look crossing his face. “The... tire guy?”

I chuckled, shaking my head as I leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Don’t worry about it,” I whispered against his mouth, enjoying his confusion. “You’ll catch on eventually.”

[flawseer]

Your thoughts on the wof characters have been really interesting and I'd love to hear your take on Starflight (your assignment of him being the 'designated sufferer' of arc one is both hilarious and tragically accurate). I've always liked him, cowardly though he is he still acts when he really needs to and the dynamic between him and Tsunami is super fun (the whole outwardly combative but inwardly just wishing to be as strong/as smart as the other).

I like Starflight and I relate to him a lot, as a fellow chronic worrier who annoys his friends with constant blathering about stuff only I find interesting, and often finding myself paralyzed in the face of decisions.

It’s funny how the story puts forward a black dragon, which in media are usually portrayed as mysterious, ambiguously malevolent harbingers of doom, and makes him into this adorable dork.

He’s also the plot’s chew toy, which I am at times less enthusiastic about. Especially when jokes are made at the expense of his misfortune.

Wings of Night and Sea

Starflight’s and Tsunami’s friendship is very engaging because, in a sense, both of them complete each other. For each, emulating the other serves as their last resort when faced with a personal crisis. Whenever Tsunami encounters a situation she cannot overcome with her usual blunt and direct approach, she asks herself how Starflight would resolve the situation. When Starflight becomes overwhelmed and too scared to move, his mind conjures an image of the strongest, bravest, most unstoppable thing he knows, which is Tsunami. Though either would be reluctant to openly admit it to each other, they both rely on each other’s strengths to cover their own weaknesses.

Through this you get the sense that, while their opposite personalities annoy each other to no end—if you locked both of them in a room for three hours, they’d be strangling each other when you open the door again—at their core they have only the deepest respect for each other. It becomes especially apparent when you realize that both of their stories in their respective books have them compare themselves to the other unfavorably.

If these two ever did a DBZ-style fusion dance, the result would likely be one of the most capable and balanced characters in their series.

Starflight's misfortune

CW: Discussion of blindness

One thing I have noticed (and have alluded to a lot in previous posts) is that the plot really likes to kick Starflight in the teeth. His own story arc puts him through the wringer, but he is not even safe in the two arcs past that, where he is largely out of focus. Most of the things that happen to him in arc 1 seem to occur for the sake of the story, but past that... it sometimes feels to me like the world has it in for this guy.

I started writing a list of every bad thing that happens to Starflight over all three arcs, but it got way too long, so now I’m just going to talk about a few select things instead.

One thing that stands out to me is that every other protagonist in arc 1 gets a specific moment. That kind of scene where they enter their tribe’s biome for the first time or connect with a particular part of their culture/physiology, and are overcome with a sudden burst of euphoria or deep resonance with their own nature. Clay gets it when he submerges himself in mud for the first time and then later again when he finds his siblings, Tsunami when she sees and smells the ocean, Glory when she’s in the rainforest and feels the sun, and Sunny when they go through the magic tunnel and end up in the desert. Starflight is the only arc 1 protagonist who doesn’t get a moment like this; when he enters his tribe’s home for the first time it’s a giant craphole that makes him feel upset. It only gets worse from there.

Then there is the big one; the misfortune that happens to him at the end of his book. I struggle to talk about this because... uh... How do I put this?

I opened this post by saying I relate to Starflight on a personal level. I wouldn’t consider myself as studious or well-read as him, so it’s not a direct comparison, but I do like to draw, write and dabble in visual artistry. This is a major part of my life; how I define myself as a person and what I think makes me “me”. The thing about this though is that all of this is tied up into one thing: my sense of sight.

It follows then that what ends up happening to Starflight is the realization of the one thing I fear the most. Thinking about the possibility of losing ones sight is deeply, personally horrifying to me. It messes me up internally just to consider it happening to me.

This, the subject of becoming blind, is a very difficult topic for any story to properly engage with. There are many pitfalls you can fall into and come off as insensitive, or ignorant. The way Wings of Fire deals with this subject is to... well... it doesn’t really. Starflight is blinded and then the story skips over most of his reaction to it because the next POV character gets separated from the group while they sort it out.

In a way, this is a good thing. I don’t know how this series—which often rushes through these really uncomfortable, harrowing events—would be able to show a realistic reaction to this development. Like, losing ones sight would be a horrifying prospect for anyone, but for Starflight especially this completely uproots not only his entire life, but his sense of identity. Everything he likes doing, everything he is and wants to be in life is rendered virtually impossible by this.

Consider who Starflight is. He is a thinker, and a worrier who is always inside his own head. He dreads and fears, he seeks out worst case scenarios, I daresay he is inclined towards pessimism. Whenever his neuroticism gets him too stressed, or emotional, or worried, he has one immediate response: bury his nose in a scroll. When he arrives in a new place, he usually asks where the scrolls are at. When he is under threat of being abducted or attacked, his first instinct is to go grab his scrolls to keep them safe. Like with me and drawing, reading is how he unwinds, how he balances himself. It is what keeps him sane and functional through dealing with adversity (and he's Starflight, so he deals with a lot of adversity).

Then this happens to him, and suddenly the one thing that makes this poor, battered boy happy, the one thing that never hurts him, is taken away forever. If I was in his place, if I learned I was suddenly blind, I would fall apart. I would cry, then scream, then cry AND scream and probably flail around in a panic. Clay would have to hold me down and restrain me so I don’t end up falling off the platform in a frenzied fit. Or worse.

So yeah, I get why the plot had to look away. Seeing this happen to Starflight—him going through this kind of anguish and then sinking into quiet despair as his world crumbles around him—would have been heartbreaking. In the end, we go on Sunny’s solo adventure and when she returns Starflight is already conveniently past the screaming fit phase and has adjusted to his new life circumstances—enough to talk and joke as if nothing happened. He then goes on to dedicate himself to bringing the wonders of literature to other blind dragons, which is a noble goal and good trajectory for his character—even if it’s a bit abrupt and I would have liked to SEE him do that instead of just being told.

Anyway.

This next one isn’t as notable because it doesn’t happen TO him, but I want to point it out to back up my claim that Starflight Ls can and will happen even in story arcs that have very little to do with him. In book 6 Moonwatcher and Darkstalker have a conversation where they discuss the concept of Nightwing powers and how they relate to the moons. The story very pointedly draws attention to the fact that Starflight nearly was born under three full moons and would have become the most powerful Nightwing of his generation if his inept caretakers had not decided to hatch him underground. While I don’t think getting these powers would have been good for Starflight in the long run, it is a bit sad considering he spent most of his childhood thinking he was born wrong because he didn’t have powers, and then Morrowseer further gaslit him about it throughout the arc.

And then we don't talk about what happens in arc 3. I am not the right person to discuss it.

My take on Starflight

I was asked to give my take on the character, so...

I already went into how I think he’s very introspective and prone to worrying. I see him as an introvert, which is something he has in common with Glory, and contrast him with Sunny, Clay, and especially Tsunami. He enjoys reading but also other activities where he gets to use his brain. He likes puzzles; I imagine he got very excited when they had to figure out the murder plot in book 2, or when he caught Blister in a lie. If he had a computer it would be full of adventure and puzzle games, and he’d hog the resident DS to play the Professor Layton series all the time.

When they found the academy, it is implied he teaches a literacy course and gives out writing assignments. That is right up his alley, but I’ve always felt he also has strong math/natural science teacher vibes. There should logically be a numbers class at that school and I can’t imagine any other character who would be more suited to teach it.

If I were asked where I would make changes to his story, I guess I would nix the part where he and Fatespeaker hook up in book 5. I have nothing against their relationship, it’s actually grown a lot on me over time. But I never liked how it started. Starflight gets rejected by Sunny and then immediately hooks up with Fatespeaker. This is really undignified for her because it takes their potentially intriguing romantic relationship and turns her into Starflight’s “rebound chick”. You really need to give yourself some time to move on from your previous attraction; rushing like this creates doomed relationships.

The original story implies that about half a year passes between the end of arc 1 and the start of arc 2. I like to pretend this gap is actually a bit longer, by like 2 or 3 years. It gives the old protagonists a bit more time to settle into the roles they’ll occupy during the next arc, and makes it more plausible to me that they could build and outfit an entire school, write the curriculum, designate roles, etc..

In that time, with things being more calm now, Starflight has opportunity to get lost in his own thoughts again. It turns out, now that the dangers of the war are no longer distracting him, he finds it difficult to cope with his blindness and sinks into a depression.

While this happens, Fatespeaker is there with him. She sees his condition worsening by the day, but refuses to give up on him. She reads to him; they talk, and they bond. Though serious self-searching and hard work, together they manage to pull out of the darkness eventually. This is how their relationship starts, and it’s also how Starflight gets the idea to invent the dragon-equivalent of braille.

Somewhere during that time, I also imagine Glory has Tamarin escorted to Jade Mountain so she can help Starflight adjust to his new situation and learn how to navigate his life without needing to rely on others. Perhaps this is what motivates Tamarin to attend the academy later.

What else is there to say? Hmm...

I think Starflight is really fond of hard candy. Jawbreakers are his favorite especially. Though given how prone to misfortune he is in the story, I’m hesitant to put him in proximity of anything with a name like that.